Chapter 25 – Lily #2
“Shit!” he shouts along with a few other expletives as he pulls it out and throws it to the ground.
I sprint across the room as he removes his gun from his waistband and points it towards me.
I shove my palm against the side of the barrel and away from my face, and a shot goes off, shattering a vase.
My heart pounds. Don’t let him get to his gun. That was the number one rule.
Regret fills my gut. Aster was right. He shouldn’t have stayed behind. He could have donned a disguise like me. It’s just a bit hard to disguise a 6’5 behemoth of a man covered in tattoos. And we needed Vetrel to be off his guard. Also, I’m full of pride and spite.
In a blink, his gun digs into my forehead, and my heart stops.
“On the ground,” he instructs, and when my knees hit the floor, he laughs. “Knew I’d get you here. Just thought you’d do it willingly. I should make you suck my cock for being such a nasty bitch.” Bile mixed with rage rises in my throat.
“I’d rather bite it off.”
He pistol whips me, searing pain erupting in my jaw. I collect the blood mixed with saliva in my mouth and spit on his suede shoes.
“You seem to have lost that accent, Daisy.” He returns the barrel to my forehead as he slides his fingers into my faux hair. Soreness erupts across my scalp as he snatches the wig, ripping out the bobby pins holding it in place.
The cold metal leaves an imprint in my skin, and I hope he doesn’t blow my head off as I squeeze my eyes shut and consider my very limited options.
Number one: death.
Yeah, forget that.
Number two: pretend this is all a ruse and I like it rough.
I think I’d prefer death.
Number three: get his gun.
That is the best but most unrealistic option.
“Who do you work for?” he asks, kicking me in the stomach, and I grunt, trying not to vomit.
“I’m self-employed,” I cough out, forcing my body to fight the trembles threatening to break free. The only thing worse than being put in this position is to appear weak or afraid. That’s why I channel every emotion inside me into pure, unabashed rage.
“He sent you, didn’t he?” Vetrel growls. Who is he? “I told him I’d come up with the money.”
“Who?” I ask, and his eyes narrow.
A loud knock comes at the door, and Vetrel glances towards it. Refusing to waste his momentary distraction, I dodge the gun, then whack my palm against the barrel, knocking it out of his hands. It scatters across the floor, and I rush towards it.
His foot hooks my ankle, and I trip, landing flat on the ground with a thud, a sharp sting ricocheting against my ribs as I gasp for air.
He grips my boot, dragging me backwards, and I claw against the floor for anything to hold on to.
My foot slips out of the shoe, and he stumbles, dropping the boot, giving me a moment to scramble towards the gun.
Once the metal’s securely in my hand, I rush to stand, spinning around to the sight of him reaching towards his desk. I pull the trigger, and a bullet zooms past his pinky finger to hit a folder, and papers fly around the room.
“What the bloody fuck do you want?” he shrieks, throwing his hands in the air as another loud knock comes at the door, and I rush towards him.
“Everything okay in there, boss?” a muffled voice asks as the handle jiggles, unable to budge since Freddy here locked us in when we arrived.
Once directly before him, I position the barrel inches from his face and say, “Talk and you die.” He opens his mouth, and I shove the barrel inside it, causing his eyes to twitch in anger.
Power surges through me, and my lip twitches upwards.
This is gonna be fun. Vetrel’s expression turns to surprise as my moaning screams flood the room.
“Oh, yeah, baby, harder!” Hopefully the sex sounds will be enough to scare the security guards away.
“Fuck yeah, I like it rough!” Removing the pistol from his pie hole, he gasps as I step backwards, my aim still locked on him.
“Oh! I love men with tiny dicks, YES!” His face reddens, and I grab a glass sculpture on a nearby table. “This looks expensive.”
“Don’t you dare,” he snarls, lip twitching in anger.
“Oh, yeah!” I throw it against the wall in a shatter. I’m feeling a little—a lot—unhinged, and I must admit… I like it. Coming to a pause behind him, I lower my mouth to his ear. “Ask me to spank you like a bad boy.”
“No,” he scoffs in disbelief, and I grip his hair, tugging it against my stomach, then put the gun to his temple. His jaw hardens, and he grits out, “Spank me.”
“Louder!” I sing, shaking his head like a puppet. “And the full sentence.”
I cock the gun, and his face reddens, veins practically popping from his forehead. “Spank me!” he bellows, and I chortle.
“Spank you… what?”
“Spank me like a bad boy!” he grits out.
Another giggle erupts out of me. I should not get this much pleasure from holding a gun to someone’s head, but knowing the horrible things he’s done does ease the ache. Besides, all I’m going to leave him with is a lesson and a bit of humiliation.
My eyes find the mantel, and a light bulb flashes in my mind.
“You’re mental,” he huffs as I shove him away, walk over, and pick up his favorite art piece. Returning to his desk, the barrel still aimed his way, I set the piece on top. “Be very careful about what you do next, or the newest head on my mantel will be yours.”
I narrow my eyes. “Didn’t I already warn you about underestimating me?”
“Do you have any clue who you’re dealing with here?
Who I am? What I’m capable of?” He spits on me, and in a blink, I drop the barrel, pressing it against his dick, and he freezes.
His widened shoulders attempt stoicism, but his eyes are swimming with fear.
And fuck if it doesn’t make me feel some type of way to know I’ve terrified this heartless, ruthless man.
For a split moment, I find myself understanding Aster.
All the horrible things Vetrel has done, I could end it here.
In an instant. Prevent him from causing harm to anyone else.
Solve Amara’s landlord problems. Sometimes a lesson isn’t enough to get someone to stop.
One pull of the trigger. Why can’t I pull the trigger?
I shake away the dangerous thought. Losing that bit of my morality, I’m not sure I could ever recover.
“I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen,” I say, eyes boring into his that are firing with fury. “And if you don’t,” I whisper, bringing my face closer, “I’ll shoot your dick off.”
“You’re dead,” he snarls, and I pull the trigger, blasting a bullet into his thigh. My ears ring as he screams in agony, and I grab that stupid scarf around his neck, tighten it, and shove it in his mouth.
“Ready to listen yet?” I ask as he whines in pain.
“Or shall we blast off the first testicle?” He nods, and I take pride seeing a teardrop fall from his eye as he spits out the scarf.
“You will stop squeezing your tenants for money.” I return the barrel to his cock, and his brows furrow.
“And if you don’t…” I bring my face inches from his, retrieving the XO Karma lighter from my pocket with my free hand.
“I’m going to come back, and first, I’m gonna blow your dick off as promised.
Then, I’m gonna shoot you in your legs, tie you to a chair”—I flick my thumb, a flame flickering between us—“light the place on fire, and watch as it, and you, burns to nothing but ashes that no one will miss.” Unbridled power surges through my veins as he trembles with anger before me. “Do you understand?”
Indecision wages behind his eyes. He wants to fight, but he’s wondering if this is the battle or the war. He’s calculating how important it is if he wins or loses.
“I said…” I dig the barrel deep, shoving it against his dick. Who even am I? I feel completely out of control yet invincible all at once. But I don’t stop. “Do you understand me?”
He nods begrudgingly.
“Out. Loud.”
He holds his leg, groaning. “I understand.”
“Oh, goodie.” A wide grin spreads across my face as I click the safety on the gun.
“Was that so hard?” I holster the weapon in the back of my skirt’s waistband and retrieve my dagger off the ground.
After wiping it against his shirt to clean off the blood, I sheath it.
“Now.” I grab my wig and readjust it, then retrieve my boot.
“I’m leaving, and you’re going to wait five minutes to call for your little man children to help you.
Can you count that high?” I extend one finger after another, wiggling them once all are up.
“Fuck you!” His face is red, veins bulging in his forehead.
“Aw, sorry.” I jut out my lower lip. “But I’d rather choke on acid than be anywhere near your micropenis.”
I stroll over to the desk and snatch the diamond skull, then place it in my handbag. “And I’m going to keep this as a little extra insurance.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Goodbye, Frederick.” I blow him a kiss as I reach the door. “Karma looks good on you.”